Snapping
by Chocolate Ripple
Summary: When Charlie Brown snaps, it's quite different from how other people snap… (A short oneshot/somewhat drabble based on a comic strip from November 23rd, 1968. I suggest you quickly read that first.)


**Author's Note: **I do not ship Lucy x Charlie, but I thought it would be best to practice my writing skills and see how this turns out. (Plus, it's not exactly that. It's more one-sided.)

I also have wanted to do something like this for a while, involving Lucy and Charlie Brown.

This is just a short drabble, I guess, and isn't really meant to go anywhere afterward. I just wanted to write something like this.

(Set in any year, I guess, and their ages are 12. Not related to my other stories.)

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own any products or characters mentioned in this fanfiction. The products are owned by those products. The characters were made by Charles M. Schulz.

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><p>"I'm always feeling so depressed… that's the only word I use to sum up my life… depressed… but I guess wishy-washy as well… I'm always so wishy-washy…"<p>

Charlie Brown was sitting on the wooden stool, 'talking' to Lucy van Pelt, at her Psychiatrist Booth. Lucy didn't really listen. She just looked off into the sky, leaning on her chair, not paying attention to what Charlie had to say. Because she didn't care. All she cared about was making five cents – when it came to Charlie Brown, that is. She figured out early that she could quickly say anything at the end, and Charlie would give her five cents and he would walk off, still the weakling he was and always will be.

Charlie Brown droned on. "…and I'm always going through so much bad luck… and I don't think I've ever had a good day in my life… why does it always come to be a bad day? Why can't I ever have a good day?" He turned to Lucy, his face looking frightened always.

After a second, Lucy snapped out of her daydream and turned to Charlie. She only needed to hear the last few words, anyway.

"Be more optimistic!" She snapped, knowing that was something Charlie couldn't do. "Five cents, pl-"

"But that's had for me, Lucy… I'm always being such a blockhead and…" Lucy sighed, and stared off into space again. Recently, Charlie had always been cutting in her last line and going into another round of wishy-washy drabble. Why? Lucy didn't know, nor care. As long as she got five cents in the end, she was fine.

"…and I don't think anyone truly likes me, you know?" He droned on. "People just like me for a little bit… even the people I like hate me sometimes… even my anxieties have anxieties… and it becomes… so irritating." Charlie looked up at Lucy, not finishing the sentence in a question. She was staring off into space, as usual. Charlie frowned. He knew she did this, but couldn't she at least pretend to listen?

"And then…" His speech slowed down, looking intently at Lucy. "…whenever I…" His scowled deepened, as Lucy didn't notice anything. "…do something wrong, everyone hates me, even if someone else does the same thing…" He slowed his speech slowed down to a stop, though he made it as if he was going to continue. Lucy continued daydreaming.

Charlie looked at Lucy, waiting. He sighed.

"Luce."

Lucy snapped out of her daydream, hearing her nickname. She quickly turned to Charlie and scowled.

"Only my friends can call me that. And yes?"

Charlie looked around him, and then turned back to Lucy. She was surprised to find a sad frown on his face.

"Luce, why don't you ever try to help me?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Many other people have come to see you – they come because you actually help them with whatever problem they have. Why don't you help me?" He asked, whispering.

Lucy backed away, surprised at Charlie's change of attitude – and slightly scared as well.

"W-well, you're wishy-washy Charlie Brown!" She attempted to became brave again, as she normally was. "What else am I su… supposed…"

Her speech stopped when she saw the sickening look on his face.

"Lucy, you've been my so-called 'friend' since we were six. I still remember the times when you used to "count the suns", and you used to count the stars, and you used to count the raindrops… whenever you said you knew something, I told you the truth, yet you always called me an idiot. Why did you do that back then?"

Lucy shuddered, but stayed silent. Charlie's voice sounded – somewhat threatening, yet still in a way as if he wasn't going to do anything – just leave her. Was this how Charlie Brown snapped? Why couldn't he yell like she – or normal people – did? But why would she expect Charlie Brown to yell anyway?

"For once, no answer out of your mouth. And back to my original topic – I've seen you help other people in this booth, and you've cured them – you even tried to cure my own dog. But why not me, Lucy? I remember you helped Snoopy, it seems like ages ago – you asked for his hand, and you told him to relax… and you told him to think 'I am loved… I am needed… I am important…' but, why, Luce, did you never do that with me? Wouldn't I need to know that I am loved, needed, and important - more than my own dog?" He asked, his voice raising a fraction.

She blinked, and realised she was on the brink of tears. She tried to scowl, but for the first time in her life – she couldn't.

Why _had _she tried to discourage Charlie Brown for so many years? Even when she knew he was right, when she were little, she always told him he was lying, just because she thought it was funny to see his stomach hurt. And why did she always contribute to his depression? Because it was an easy way to make five cents. The more depressed he was, the more he would come.

But why would she do something like that? Why does she pull the football away every year? Because she enjoyed seeing Charlie Brown hurt? What if she broke his back one day?

Her head spun as she thought thoughts she never thought she would think about. And, of course, her stomach lurched, and it hurt, just as Charlie's always used to.

_Plink! _Lucy blinked, and looked over at Charlie Brown, who stood up, and brushed any dirt off his yellow zig-zag t-shirt.

"There you go, Lucy… I doubt I'll ever hear an answer to why you did those things to me, but there you go anyway…" And he started walking off.

Lucy picked up her tin can, scared to look inside of it. Slowly, she peeked into the can, and was even more shocked to find a one dollar coin.

"Um, Charlie, this is-"

Charlie didn't bother turning around. "That's for future visits. I'm paying you in advanced." He remarked, as he turned onto the sidewalk, and walked in the direction to his house.

Lucy left the one dollar coin in the tin can. "Charlie…" She sighed, scared, still unsure of what the future held for her after this event.

What would happen the next time she saw Charlie? _Will he hurt me as soon as he sees me? _She thought, as she decided to pack up her booth. To pack up the booth, all she did was push into a small hole near the pond. _But… Charlie has a point… I really do like him, he's one of my best friends… but I have been way too mean, too bossy, too crabby… _She sniffed, tears rolling down her face. She quickly looked around, hoping no-one was around.

_But why have I been this crabby for so many years? _She realised the answer almost instantly – _Because I always press on it. I remember wanting to be a fussbudget for three years in a row, and I kept being crabby every day because I thought there was one day I wasn't crabby everyone would think something is wrong with me, but that's so… so… __**freaking stupid..**_

Mustering any anger she had left, she screamed, ("**AAUGH**!") and crumpled the tin can, the dollar still inside of it, and threw it behind her, landing in the pond, falling deep into the water. Still angry, she looked for another thing to punch - she then locked at her Psychiatrist Booth, and swiftly punched it – making a dent in the top sign. She punched it again and again, thinking nothing but the fact that she deserved to be punched, and imagined she was punching herself.

After a couple of minutes, she finished, and huffed and puffed, and looked at the Booth. It was reduced to planks of old oak wood, lying on the ground.

She ran to her house, and slammed the door open and shut. She stormed into the lounge room, her blue dress tattered with dirt and her hands red and sore. Her face was red and wet with tears.

Linus was watching TV, expecting Lucy to be in her usual crabby state. He didn't bother turning around, as he had learnt to enjoy every last moment of his show before Lucy changed the channel.

"Linus…" Her voice broke, and she broke into tears – real, large tears.

Linus quickly whipped around, alarmed, and was shocked by the scene in front of him. He quickly turned off the television, and went over to Lucy.

"Lucy? Are you alright?" He asked, baffled. Lucy attempted to stop crying, and looked up at Linus, her eyes bloodshot.

"Linus, I'm… s-s-s-sorry…" She started crying again, as Linus looked around, unsure what was happening.

"Sorry for what, Lucy?" He asked.

"FOR EVERYTHING!" She screamed, making Linus jump. "For being so crabby and bossy and rude…" She continued crying, as Linus walked over next to her, and hugged her – something he hadn't done since they were eight.

"It's okay, Lucy…" He whispered to her. Lucy hugged him back, still crying. "It's okay…"

Nine-year-old Rerun walked into the room, about to ask Linus to change the channel, and was shocked and confused to see Lucy and Linus hugging each other, Lucy crying.

Linus was facing towards him. Rerun mouthed to him; _What the heck is this?!_

_I don't know! Go away for now. _Linus mouthed back. Rerun nodded and walked upstairs. He attempted to tip-toe up the stairs, but he squeaked on one of the floorboards anyway. Lucy didn't notice.

After a while, Lucy sniffed, and slowly stopped crying. She sat down on the couch, and Linus sat next to her.

"Lucy… are you okay?" He asked, unsure. Lucy shook her head.

"I'm… I've come to a realistion…" Her voice became more confident than before. "…that I have been overly crabby and rude to you from the moment you were born. And, I would like the apologise, and say that I am – for once – completely and truly sorry." She sniffled, and looked up at him. Linus was speechless.

"I know you may or may not accept my apology… but I am apologising anyway." She finished, her voice breaking again, once again on the brink of tears.

Linus looked and Lucy, thinking of something to say. A quote? A bible reference? But he didn't have too.

Rerun walked into the room, holding a bowl of ice-cream.

"Here." He said, and plopped the bowl on Lucy's lap. Linus and Lucy looked up, both confused.

"Re-Rerun… what's this?" Stuttered Lucy.

"Ice-cream." Rerun shrugged. "When people are sad, I thought they would like to have ice-cream, because that makes me happy."

Linus smiled. Rerun was nine – he was just doing what he thought was right.

Lucy sniveled, and smiled. "Thank you, Rerun…" Rerun smiled brightly, and then picked up the remote, and turned the television on. The show Linus was watching, _Doctor Who_, was still on.

"You don't mind if I change the channel to Lucy's show, do you, Linus?" Asked Rerun. Linus grinned again. _He's pretty smart for his age…_

"Of course not, Rerun." Said Linus.

"Don't." Lucy interrupted. "I actually like this show… I just used to change it to annoy Linus…" Lucy's face blushed. Linus had no idea what came over Lucy, but its seemed to be a good thing.

"Okay!" Rerun said, and sat down next to Lucy. They watched _Doctor Who_ in silence.

During the show, Lucy realised something; she had started calling Charlie Brown something no-one she knew called him.

Charlie.


End file.
